Machinations
by davros72
Summary: Rebecca, Phileas, Jules and Passepartout get caught in a trap set by a bad guy.


TITLE: Machinations  
AUTHOR: Kevin Schultz  
AUTHOR'S EMAIL: davros72@prodigy.net  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please  
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: I'm fine with it, just let me know where it'll be,  
that's all I ask.  
CATEGORY: Adventure  
RATING/WARNINGS: PG-13 (for nudity and a bit of sexuality, but nothing too  
graphic)  
MAIN CHARACTERS: Rebecca, Jules, Phileas, Passepartout  
DISCLAIMER: SAJV and characters copyright Talisman/Promark/etc., no  
infringement is intended.  
  
  
**********  
  
Phileas Fogg peered over the edge of the railing of his beloved airship  
Aurora. In the dark of night it was nearly impossible to make out anything  
on the ground. However, Phileas managed to see... something. It was very  
small, and very faint, but it was most definitely there. A small burning  
light. Just over there...  
  
"Verne!" he called out to his friend Jules Verne, who was busy piloting the  
ship from the controls in the main cabin. "Come about, 30 degrees to  
starboard, slow and steady... easy now... full stop, please, Verne!" He  
smiled, thumped the railing in satisfaction, and hurried inside.  
  
Phileas dashed over to the mechanism controlling the raising and lowering of  
the access platform. He threw the lever, and the platform began to descend  
rapildly. At just the right moment, he again threw the lever, causing the  
platform to halt. He waited until he felt a significant tug on the line  
leading back up into the Aurora, and pulled the lever in the opposite  
direction. The platform began to ascend, albeit at a slower rate than its  
descent.  
  
Phileas turned to Jules, who looked on anxiously. "I told you she would do  
well, Verne," Phileas said with a smug grin on his face. "Rebecca never  
lets me down."  
  
Jules raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really, Fogg? What about that time when--"  
  
"Quiet, Jules, here she comes." Phileas stepped back to allow the platform  
and its rider to enter the cabin of the Aurora. "Ah, Rebecca, how did it--"  
Phileas broke off as he caught sight of the face of the newcomer.  
  
The person wearing Rebecca's clothes (consisting of a finely-cut dark brown  
frock coat, and elegant tan breeches, with dark brown knee-high leather  
boots) was most decidedly *not* Phileas' cousin Rebecca Fogg. The beard  
alone was a dead giveaway. The man's short dark hair, a stark contrast to  
Rebecca's flowing red locks, also betrayed the fact that Rebecca had not  
arrived back onboard the Aurora.  
  
"Good evening, Phileas, hello there, Jules!" the strange man said cheerily.  
He took a quick step backward to remove himself from the platform. "How  
nice to finally meet you both." The man smiled and extended a hand for  
Phileas to shake. Phileas ignored the proffered hand, as did Jules. Both  
of the men offered the stranger a matched set of smoldering eyes.  
  
"Where is Rebecca, and who the hell are you?" Phileas seethed.  
  
The stranger lowered his hand. "Your cousin is quite safe, Phileas. Having  
failed to rescue Prince Ellerin, she's currently enjoying my accomodations  
back at my castle. I refrained from keeping a lady such as her in the  
dungeons and put her up in one of my guest quarters. With a guard on watch,  
of course. Just to keep her safe. As for who I am, you've probably guessed  
by now, what with me referring to "my castle" and such, you have the honor  
of addressing Count Frederick von Moenne."  
  
Phileas nodded. "I thought as much. What do you want?"  
  
"Well," von Moenne went on briskly, "strangely enough I want Jules Verne.  
And what's more, I want his journal."  
  
Jules rolled his eyes. "Not the journal again! Please tell me I'm not  
dreaming!"  
  
von Moenne chuckled, a puzzled look on his face. "My boy, this is no dream.  
This is stark reality. Come with me, bring your journal, and I'll release  
your precious Rebecca and the Prince. It's as simple as that."  
  
"I'll have you know," Phileas said, the anger building within his voice as  
he placed his hands firmly on his hips, "that I bow to no one's demands,  
least of all some petty, pathetic pretender of a potentate!"  
  
"Hmmm..." von Moenne said, scratching at his beard. "Well, that's a shame.  
All right, so be it. I'd best be getting back to my men and tell them to  
shoot down your airship."  
  
"You're going nowhere, Count," Phileas said firmly.  
  
"Oh, but I am, Phileas," von Moenne countered smoothly, calmly checking a  
pocketwatch. "You see, if I don't return to my castle within one half hour,  
my guards have orders to kill both Prince Ellerin and Rebecca Fogg in the  
slowest, most excruciating manner possible. I have no idea what they'll  
come up with, I'm sure it'll be quite painful. I almost wish I could be  
there to watch. However, since I'm not going anywhere..."  
  
Jules stepped forward. "Stop it. I'll come with you."  
  
"Verne! Don't you dare!" Phileas growled. "Rebecca would never want--"  
  
"Rebecca would understand, Fogg!" Verne snapped back. "For the good of the  
nation of Hamelwyn, and for the peace of the world."  
  
"Well said, my boy!" cried von Moenne. "Quite the idealist you've got here,  
Phileas."  
  
Phileas glared at Verne for a full minute. Then he slowly nodded. "Very  
well."  
  
Verne nodded back at Phileas. He looked at von Moenne. "I'll get my  
journal."  
  
"Excellent!" von Moenne smiled. "I love it when I get my way."  
  
Verne shook his head at the man's arrogance, and hurried off to retrieve his  
journal.  
  
Waiting for Jules to return, von Moenne looked down at his clothing.  
"Rebecca cut a fine figure in this outfit, I must say. However, I must  
admit she cuts an even finer figure once she's out of this outfit."  
Phileas' eyes narrowed as his anger continued to build. "I had such an  
enjoyable time removing this clothing from her unconscious body. And what a  
strange outfit I found underneath. Some sort of tight, leather suit. Very  
fetching! Some type of kinky, sexual undergarment for naughty goings-on  
aboard the Aurora, Fogg?"  
  
Phileas pulled back a hand to deliver a massive punch, but his hand stopped  
short on its way forward. "Phileas," Jules said quietly and firmly,  
releasing Phileas' hand from his grasp. "Don't. Not now."  
  
von Moenne frowned, as if disappointed he wasn't struck by Phileas. "Is  
that the journal, Jules?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Containing all of your sketches and ideas, your ruminations and mechanisms  
from the 'future'? All that nonsense?"  
  
Jules frowned, replying, "You know damn well it is, otherwise you wouldn't  
have asked for it. Let's go." Jules stepped onto the platform, and von  
Moenne joined him.  
  
"I think we're ready to go, Phileas," von Moenne said cheerily. "Have a  
nice night!"  
  
Phileas angrily gripped the lever, and stared at von Moenne. "This isn't  
over, you know."  
  
"Of that, I am quite sure," von Moenne said, the cheer gone from his voice,  
replaced instead by an icy calm. "Quite sure."  
  
Phileas threw the lever, and the platform descended from sight. Phileas  
watched it drop, and turned to throw a punch at the nearby wall.  
  
*****  
  
Prince Ellerin of Hamelwyn thought he was going to go mad. The steady,  
constant drip-drip-drip of water that kept splashing quietly just outside  
his dungeon cell made him want to bury his head under the pillow of his  
cell's bed. If the bed had had a pillow, that is. And for that matter, if  
the bed had been an actual bed, instead of a rather small bale of hay.  
  
So it was with some hope that he looked up upon hearing the jangling of keys  
from somewhere down the hall. He heard footsteps approach and stop outside  
his cell. There was a short hiatus in the sound of the dripping water,  
which was quickly replaced by a muttered, "Damn it, damn stupid dripping  
water!" from the guard who unlocked and opened the door.  
  
"Company!" the guard shouted sullenly at the Prince as another figure was  
bundled into the small dark cell and thrown roughly to the ground. The door  
clattered shut, the keys jangled in the lock again, and the drip-drip-drip  
resumed its torturous existence. "Damn dripping water..." the guard  
muttered again as he moved away.  
  
The crumpled figure on the ground moaned slightly, then quickly shifted to a  
sitting position. The newcomer rubbed the back of his head. The stranger  
appeared a few years younger than the thirty-year-old Prince, and had  
shortish black hair. The non-descript clothing marked him out to be a  
commoner, and most definitely not in the military.  
  
"Welcome, my good man," the Prince said in a warm, friendly tone as he stood  
up. "I am Prince Ellerin of the kingdom of Hamelwyn. And who might I have  
the honor of addressing?"  
  
The new man also stood up, albeit more slowly than the Prince had. "My name  
is Jules Verne, I'm a writer, from France."  
  
"Ah!" the Prince said, his eyes lighting up. "Jules Verne! I have heard of  
you. His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of France has spoken quite highly of  
your works."  
  
"He has?" Jules said, impressed.  
  
The Prince's smile faltered. "Well, no. I'm afraid not. I'm sorry, I was  
just trying to be friendly and cheer you up somewhat."  
  
"Oh." The two men shook hands. "Pleased to meet you, Your Highness."  
  
"And you as well, my friend," the Prince said smiling once again.  
  
*****  
  
Count von Moenne strolled briskly into his private quarters and casually  
tossed Jules' journal onto a nearby table. He walked over to a cabinet and  
poured himself a nice stiff drink. Walking back to the table, he pulled  
over a chair, and opened the leather volume. He paged through the book  
slowly, his eyes narrowing at some things, his eyes widening considerably at  
others.  
  
About one quarter of the way through the journal, von Moenne stopped paging.  
He clenched a fist in victory, thumped it on the table's surface, and cried  
out, "Yes!" He quickly drained the rest of his drink and slammed the empty  
glass onto the table.  
  
Standing up again, he called out, "Guard!" The guard stationed outside his  
quarters opened the door and walked quickly inside.  
  
"Yes, sir!" the guard barked.  
  
"Bring me Rebecca Fogg. I wish to... celebrate..."  
  
"Yes, sir!" the guard said, grinning. He hurried out, slamming the door  
shut once more.  
  
von Moenne stepped over to his drinks cabinet once more, this time grabbing  
a second glass, and pulling a rather rich vintage of wine from the rack.  
"For the most special of occasions, and I think tonight will qualify, my  
dear Rebecca." He uncorked the wine, and poured it into the two glasses.  
  
With the wineglasses in hand, von Moenne moved from his main quarters into  
his private bedchamber. He set the glasses down on the dresser, and looked  
around the room. Yes, everything looked excellent. This will be a night to  
remember, he thought to himself.  
  
The guard banged loudly on the door to the other room. von Moenne hurried  
back through to the main quarters, and called, "Enter!"  
  
The guard slammed open the door and roughly dragged Rebecca Fogg into the  
room.  
  
"Rebecca Fogg, as ordered, sir!" the guard growled.  
  
"Thank you, my good man," von Moenne said, an eyebrow raising at the sight  
of the guard's face. "I take it there was no trouble bringing her here?"  
  
The guard self-consciously rubbed the bruise below his right eye. "No more  
so than usual, sir," he grumbled, frowning as he noticed the cheeky grin on  
Rebecca's face.  
  
"Excellent," von Moenne chuckled. "You will now leave us. And remember  
this... you will not enter this room, nor will you let anyone else enter  
this room, until I open this door and let you in. No matter what you may  
hear from within, no one is to come in, is that understood?"  
  
The guard nodded. "Yes, sir!"  
  
"Very well, dismissed," von Moenne barked. The guard obeyed, leaving von  
Moenne and Rebecca alone in the room.  
  
There was an awkward silence, which von Moenne eventually broke by saying,  
"I don't much like him either, but he gets the job done."  
  
Rebecca said nothing.  
  
"I hope you won't be as troubling for me as you were for him," von Moenne  
continued. "I am here to make you an offer."  
  
Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"  
  
"Yes, indeed. You may have noticed that your chambers are rather small, and  
cramped. And lacking in certain... comforts." von Moenne strolled over to  
Rebecca and casually grasped her arm. He began to escort her to the doorway  
to his bedchamber.  
  
"I had noticed," Rebecca replied.  
  
"I'm prepared to offer you so much more than that. I can offer you better  
accomodations, better food, and... other things. Amongst them, power."  
  
As they entered the bedchamber together, Rebecca said simply, "Ah."  
  
"'Ah'?" von Moenne remarked, perplexed. "I offer you power, and all you can  
say is 'ah'?"  
  
Rebbeca nodded.  
  
"I'm at a loss," von Moenne said. "Most captive women would at this point  
be protesting, saying things such as, 'You'll never take me alive,' or 'You  
fiend!' Something of that nature. But... 'ah'?"  
  
"Yes," Rebecca smiled. "But then, most captive women aren't as... attracted  
to their captors as I am." She slipped an arm around his waist.  
  
von Moenne blinked, then blinked again. "Well, I'll be damned."  
  
Rebecca laughed, saying, "I'm sure you will." She walked with him over to  
the dresser. "I take it one of these is for me?" she said as she grabbed a  
glass of wine.  
  
"Um, yes, indeed," von Moenne said, quickly attempting to regain the upper  
hand. He grabbed the other wineglass. "To you, my dear Rebecca Fogg, and a  
long and happy future together."  
  
"No, no, my dear," Rebecca countered. "To us." At that, they clinked their  
glasses together, and took their first drink.  
  
"Oh, the hell with the wine," von Moenne said as he threw his glass away.  
  
"I thought you'd never ask," Rebecca replied, as she threw her glass aside  
as well.  
  
She gripped him by the front of his shirt, and ripped it open, baring his  
chest. Rebecca toyed with his thick chest hair as von Moenne struggled  
heroically to undo the straps and fasteners on Rebecca's leather catsuit.  
"No, you have to open the side one first, dear. Yes, that one. Then you  
pull that... No, no, no, the other... yes, that one. Now undo that buckle.  
And that one. And that one. Now the... yes, you've got the hang of it  
now." She continued to rip at the Count's shirt, and was successful at  
tearing it completely off of him. She massaged his shoulders as he bent  
down to kiss her cheek, his hands fumbling at the back of her corset.  
  
*****  
  
Jules started to look around the small cell. Apart from the one bed of hay,  
there was nothing else in the room. No windows, no chairs, nothing. The  
stone walls and floors looked strong enough to discourage any sort of  
escape-by-digging attempt.  
  
"Might I ask, Mister Verne," the Prince ventured, "do you perhaps know why I  
am here? I must confess my ignorance as to what Count von Moenne wants with  
me. He hasn't said a word to me since he threw me in here."  
  
Jules looked the Prince squarely in the eye. "I'm afraid all you were to  
him was bait."  
  
"Bait?"  
  
"Bait in a trap, which we fell for like fools."  
  
The Prince grimaced slightly. "Oh, dear. I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't worry about it, Your Highness," Jules said, giving the Prince an  
encouraging smile. "We're going to get out of here."  
  
"But how? There's no way we can dig our way out, the castle is guarded by  
hundreds of the Count's loyal men. It's hopeless!"  
  
Jules chuckled softly. "My friend, where there's a will, there's a valet."  
  
The Prince frowned. "That makes absolutely *no* sense."  
  
"Is making perfect sense!" a new voice called from the doorway. Keys  
clanged and jangled in the lock once more. "Why is there being a waterfall  
here?" said the new voice. The door opened, revealing another newcomer,  
this one in the outfit of the Count's guard. The man's dark goatee matched  
the dark hair upon which the dripping water continued its rhythmic life.  
  
"Passepartout!" Jules cried out happily. "You made it!"  
  
"Yes!" Passepartout grinned hugely. "Just like we were planning! Now both  
of you, we must be hurrying!"  
  
The Prince and Jules scurried out of the room, following Passepartout past  
the unconscious guard on the floor.  
  
*****  
  
  
Twenty minutes later, von Moenne succeeded in pulling the last bit of  
Rebecca's suit off of her, and he sat down on the edge of his bed. "Just  
let me catch my breath," he said. Rebecca pounced on him.  
  
"Not a chance!" she said, as she worked at pulling his trousers off.  
  
von Moenne lay back, and took several deep breaths. He almost couldn't  
believe it. Here was Rebecca Fogg, and here he was with her. And she  
wasn't protesting his advances at all! Perhaps there was hope for the  
universe after all, he thought.  
  
Rebecca threw his trousers aside, and climbed back on top of von Moenne.  
They kissed passionately, tongues touching tongues, their mouths pulling awa  
y briefly, then going back for seconds, for thirds, for fourths, for...  
  
"Rebecca, my dear," von Moenne said softly, as she kissed his chest. "I've  
been dreaming of this since the day I first laid eyes upon your beauty."  
  
"When was that, at the Emperor's reception in Paris last year?" Rebecca said  
inbetween kisses.  
  
"Yes, how did you know?"  
  
Rebecca paused, and looked up at von Moenne. "Because ever since that  
night, I too have been dreaming of this. Every minute of every day. And  
now it has finally come true."  
  
"Oh, Rebecca!" von Moenne breathed lustily as he leaned forward to kiss her,  
his hands reaching for her warm, supple breasts. Rebecca moaned slightly as  
he touched her. She closed her eyes. von Moenne's hands slid up from her  
breasts, and cupped themselves around Rebecca's throat.  
  
Rebecca frowned slightly as the pressure from his hands increased slightly.  
She frowned even further as her air supply began to dwindle as he continued  
to squeeze. von Moenne quickly and violently rolled her over, and planted  
himself atop her. Rebecca's eyes bulged as he continued with the pressure.  
  
"I can tell you like it rough, don't you Rebecca?" von Moenne leered down at  
her. "I knew that when I saw how you liked to treat my guards. Yes, keep  
struggling..."  
  
Darkness began encroaching around the edges of Rebecca's vision as the  
breath was squeezed from her body. Rebecca reached up and tried to pry von Moenne's hands from her throat. Shegasped and tried to speak, but no words would come. von Moenne laughed.  
Keeping one hand at her throat, von Moenne reached down to smack Rebecca on  
her thigh. His firm hand slapped against her flesh. "You like this, don't  
you?"  
  
Suddenly, von Moenne found himself flying backwards through the air, his  
head striking his dresser as he crumpled to the floor.  
  
"That's quite enough of that!" Rebecca said. "As a matter of fact, I don't.  
How dare you! Do you treat all of your 'lady friends' like that?" She  
scurried out of bed to stand up.  
  
von Moenne rubbed the back of his head as he stood up. "Well, yes,  
actually, and they love it!"  
  
"I highly doubt that," Rebecca retorted as she threw a violent kick into von  
Moenne's stomach. He staggered backwards, but kept on his feet. Rebecca  
punched him with a right hook, spun, and kicked his legs out from under him.  
He crashed to the ground, striking his head on the dresser again. This  
time, von Moenne stayed down, a slight trickle of blood dripping from the  
back of his head.  
  
Rebecca crouched in a ready stance, prepared to continue. However, von  
Moenne made no move to regain consciousness in the immediate future.  
Rebecca sighed. "The things we do for Queen and country," she muttered.  
  
Rebecca whirled about as a figure leapt from behind a nearby tapestry  
shouting, "You are getting away from her, you evil man!"  
  
Rebecca backed off as she realized it was Passepartout emerging from behind  
the tapestry. "There you are!" she sighed. "It's about time. Where have  
you been?"  
  
Realizing Rebecca was completely nude, Passepartout cried out and quickly  
spun around, to face the other direction. "I am sorry, Miss Rebecca," he  
stammered, "I... I was taking a wrong turning in the secret passageways."  
  
Jules stepped out from behind the tapestry, saw Rebecca in her naked state,  
and quickly turned himself around, to stare at the same tapestry as  
Passepartout was intensely studying. "Why, Rebecca, what nice... hangings  
you have in here." He winced.  
  
Prince Ellerin stepped boldly out from behind the tapestry as well. He  
walked elegantly over to Rebecca, held out his hand, took hers and kissed  
the back of her hand. "You must be Miss Rebecca Fogg," he said. "I'm  
delighted to meet you, these young men have been telling me all about you."  
  
Rebecca smiled at the Prince, and curtsied to him, making no attempt to  
cover her naked form. Since it didn't seem to bother the Prince, she didn't  
let it bother her either. "Well, don't believe everything they tell you,  
I'm sure most of it's not true."  
  
The Prince smiled. "I can see that at least some of what they said is quite  
true," he said smoothly.  
  
Rebecca grinned back at him.  
  
"Uh, Rebecca, Passepartout and I are going to search in the other room for a  
bit," Jules said, his voice quivering. "Your Highness, we could use your  
valuable assistance."  
  
The Prince bowed to Rebecca and replied, "Of course, my good man." He  
followed the other men out of the room.  
  
Rebecca laughed to herself, and quickly redressed herself in her leather  
catsuit. Having restored her clothing, she hefted von Moenne onto her  
shoulders and dumped him onto his bed. She returned to the dresser, rifled  
through the drawers, and took out four long scarves. She moved back to von  
Moenne, and proceeded to tie the man to each of the four wooden posts of his  
bed, one scarf for each hand and foot. Once he was secured, his naked body  
forming a natural "X" shape, she hurried into the main quarters of von  
Moenne's rooms.  
  
Verne looked over at her and smiled, pointing at his journal in triumph.  
"Found it!" he said. "The idiot even left it open to the pages he was  
looking at."  
  
Rebecca moved quickly to join Jules. "And?"  
  
Jules grimaced. "It's my design for an Underwater Transport Machine."  
  
"A what?" Prince Ellerin said, scratching his head.  
  
"An Underwater Transport Machine," Jules continued. "It's something I  
designed a while back. One of my earliest designs in fact. It was supposed  
to be a personal transport for moving underneath the surface of the water.  
See?" He pointed at the drawings on the page. The schematics showed a  
bullet-shaped craft, just slightly larger than a normal-sized man. Inside  
the craft, a man was illustrated manipulating a few simple controls, whilst  
behind him, on the outside of the craft, a mechanism seemed to be churning  
the water behind it. "This propelling mechanism back here is designed to  
carve into the water, and thereby thrust the craft forward, along a path of  
the pilot's choosing. The pilot would steer by using simple up, down, left,  
right, go, and stop levers.  
  
"The trouble is, I could never actually design the propelling mechanism  
clear enough to figure out how to make it work. I could see it in my mind,  
yet for some reason I just couldn't translate it onto the paper. It was one  
of the most frustrating designs I ever worked on. I eventually gave it up,  
and moved on to other designs."  
  
"So von Moenne is interested in this Underwater Transport Machine design of  
yours, it seems," Rebecca said grimly.  
  
"It appears so," Jules concurred. "I wonder how far along he is in his  
planning."  
  
"Master Fogg! Miss Rebecca!" Passepartout said excitedly. "I am finding a  
map of the castle building. I can see that in the lower areas is a...  
catacomb? Yes, a catacomb with a tunnel heading out to the waters of the  
ocean."  
  
Jules and Rebecca looked at Passepartout's map, then looked at each other.  
"We've got to get down there and check it out," Jules said.  
  
"Right," Rebecca agreed.  
  
"But what about the Count?" Prince Ellerin said, clearly happier that they  
were on the move and not discussing obscure mechanisms and schematics.  
  
"Oh, it's all right," Rebecca said, grinning evilly. "He's a bit tied up at  
the moment."  
  
Jules rolled his eyes. "As if we didn't see that one coming."  
  
Rebecca's smile fell. "All right, I'll try to thing of something more  
clever next time."  
  
"Fine," Jules chuckled as they went back into the bedroom, hurried behind  
the tapestry, and headed down the secret passageway.  
  
*****  
  
About one half hour and several wrong turns later, the small group emerged  
from a stone stairway into a small chamber. They paused on the threshold of  
the base of the stairs, surveyed the room for danger, and, spotting no  
threats, they stepped forward into the chamber.  
  
"The catacombs," Jules said, his voice echoing oddly in the small space.  
  
"Indeed," Rebecca said, as she looked around.  
  
The chamber was about 50 feet in width, and about 100 feet long. About  
halfway from the entryway to the far side, the stone floor suddenly gave way  
to dark blue water. On the far side, Rebecca could just about make out the  
shape of a small exit tunnel half in and half out of the water. It looked  
about 15 feet or so in diameter. However, her main focus of attention was  
drawn to what was tied up to two stone pillars at the edge of the water.  
  
"Jules, I think we've found what we were looking for," Rebecca said,  
pointing.  
  
Jules approached the stone pillars, and followed the ropes to the objects  
tied to the other end. There were two of them, one tied to each pillar.  
They were roughly cylindrical, perhaps ten feet long, with one end tapering  
into a bullet-point, while the other end exhibited a strange, propeller-like  
device. The main body of the object was a dull metal grey in color, and had  
a small glass dome on top with what appeared to be an access panel just  
behind the glass dome.  
  
Jules approached one of the objects. "This must be the Underwater Transport  
Machines," Jules said quietly. He's already built two prototypes." Jules  
carefully leaned over and pulled open the glass dome of one of the Machines.  
He looked inside. "It looks just barely big enough to fit one person  
inside," he said. "There's a seat, and some controls just in front of it.  
The dome must be so one can see outside the craft and pilot it."  
  
"Jules, be careful," Rebecca called, as she kept Passepartout and the Prince  
back from the edge to keep them safe from the water and the machines.  
  
"Don't worry, Rebecca, I know what I'm doing," Jules said back. He  
carefully stepped onto the seat of the craft, and awkwardly slid himself  
down into a seated position. He examined the controls. "Looks pretty  
simple. I see a few buttons, one labelled 'On' and one labelled 'Off'.  
There are also four levers, and these are marked 'Up', 'Down', 'Left', and  
'Right'. Let me try something."  
  
Jules braced himself, then pressed the button labelled "On". Nothing  
happened. He pressed the button again, and again nothing happened. "Damn  
it!" Jules said as he thumped the controls in frustration. "It doesn't  
work!"  
  
Passepartout's eyes brightened. "I will be trying the second Machine,  
Master Jules!" he said happily, but was quickly pulled back by Rebecca.  
  
"Don't, Passepartout," she said softly. "Let Jules examine it, see how far  
von Moenne's gotten in his work, and then we destroy them."  
  
Passepartout's face fell, but he nodded. "Yes, I am understanding. Such a  
bad man as von Moenne is not deserving of such fantastic machines."  
  
"Do you have the charges?" Rebecca asked Passepartout. He nodded. "Get  
them ready," Rebecca ordered. Passepartout dug into his disguise and  
started pulling out several square boxes. He took three of the small boxes,  
flicked a little button on the side of each of them, and secured them to the  
arch of stone above the base of the stairway. He turned back to Rebecca.  
"We are having ten minutes to get away from this chamber," he reported.  
  
"Charges?" the Prince asked, confused.  
  
Rebecca turned to him. "Explosive charges, Your Highness. Please  
understand. We must destroy these Machines before Count von Moenne can  
create any more, and unleash his evil upon the world."  
  
The Prince chuckled. "Such a melodramatic description, but I understand."  
  
"Good. Jules?"  
  
Jules, meanwhile, had climbed out of the Machine and had opened the small  
access panel behind the glass dome. He tinkered about for a moment, then  
looked back at Rebecca. "I was so close, Rebecca, I was so close when I  
designed this to make it functional. But von Moenne is even closer. I  
think I can get it to work!"  
  
Rebecca shook her head. "Don't, Jules, don't even think about it. Our  
mission is to destroy these prototypes, and then get the hell out of here."  
  
Jules was about to protest, but thought better of it. He nodded, and with a  
last look at the access panel and its contents, closed it up. He stood up,  
and called to Passepartout. "Throw me a charge."  
  
Passepartout tossed Jules one of the small boxes, which Jules deftly caught.  
Jules pressed the button on the box, and clamped it securely inside the  
first Machine. Jules moved over to the second Machine.  
  
"There you are, you bitch!" a voice cried out, piercing the eerie quiet of  
the chamber.  
  
The little group whirled around to see Count von Moenne, pistol in hand,  
march angrily down the stairs and into the chamber. He stepped right up to  
Rebecca and looked her straight in the face, gun pointing at her heart.  
"How dare you!" he spat at her.  
  
Rebecca smiled sweetly. "Oh, it was easy once I saw your ugly countenance.  
I just knew at some point I'd just *have* to knock you unconscious."  
  
von Moenne frowned, and said quietly. "I thought we could have been happy  
together. I thought you were going to go along willingly. Those things you  
said to me, about seeing me at the reception for the Emperor."  
  
"I lied," Rebecca said.  
  
Passepartout nudged the Prince, and the two of them crept ever so slowly  
closer to the stairway. Jules, meanwhile, looked on helplessly as he stood  
at the edge of the water near the second Machine.  
  
"Very well," von Moenne said sadly. "If you will not be with me  
willingly... I shall just have to find other methods to control you.  
Willingly or unwillingly, you will be mine."  
  
The sound of a pistol being cocked echoed in the chamber. "Not on your  
bloody life, Count!" a harsh voice growled.  
  
von Moenne turned his head slightly, keeping Rebecca covered with his  
pistol. "Ah!" he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Phileas Fogg, how  
nice of you to join us."  
  
"Put the gun down, Count, and move away from Rebecca," Phileas said,  
angrily, as he kept his pistol trained on von Moenne's head. "Now!"  
  
"I don't think so, Phileas," von Moenne replied. "You see, I want Rebecca.  
And I will have her. If you shoot me, I will shoot her. And we will be  
together in the afterlife. So you see, either way, I win."  
  
Passepartout looked at his watch, and looked over at von Moenne. "I am not  
thinking so," he said.  
  
"Oh?" von Moenne said, arching an eyebrow as he stared at Rebecca. "And why  
the hell not?"  
  
"Because, we are getting out of here, whereas you are staying here."  
  
von Moenne frowned. "What are you dithering about?"  
  
"I mean, the exploding boxes I set are going to go off now! Everyone, go!  
Go!" Passepartout shouted as he bundled the Prince through the archway and  
up the staircase.  
  
Rebecca feinted right, and darted back left, dodging an attempt by von  
Moenne to strike her head with the pistol. She spun around, kicked out to  
knock his gun away, spun the other direction and kicked his head. von  
Moenne stumbled, and fell to one knee, clutching his temple. Rebecca turned  
and ran through the archway, Phileas behind her, covering von Moenne with  
his pistol.  
  
"Jules, hurry!" Rebecca cried as she saw her young friend dashing towards  
her.  
  
Suddenly, the ground shook with such a fury that it knocked everyone down.  
Passepartout fell on top of the Prince, and attempted to shield the Prince  
from any flying debris. Rebecca and Phileas were knocked down as well. The  
stone from the archway crumbled and tumbled, piling up at the bottom of the  
stairway. The debris kept raining down, building a massive pile of rubble.  
When everything settled down after a few moments, and the dust began to  
clear, Rebecca was the first to raise her head. She looked down the stairs,  
and saw that their way down was completely blocked off. She also saw that  
there was no sign of Jules Verne.  
  
"Jules!" she cried out.  
  
Phileas shook his head, and struggled to his feet. He extended his hand to  
help Rebecca stand as well. They approached the massive pile of debris, and  
were soon joined by Prince Ellerin and Passepartout.  
  
"Rebecca!" they heard a voice call back. "I'm all right! I can't see the  
Count, I think he got caught in the explosion and was buried by the debris."  
  
"Try clearing the rocks from your side, we'll start clearing from this  
side."  
  
"No, get out of here, Rebecca," Jules yelled back at her.  
  
"But Jules--"  
  
"Rebecca, the explosive charge that I put on the Machine is going to go off  
in a few minutes, it'll take longer than that to dig through the rubble  
here. I've got an idea..."  
  
"Jules!" Rebecca called. There was no answer. "Jules!" she called again.  
  
Phileas placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "Rebecca, he can take care of  
himself," he said softly but firmly. "Let's get out of here while we can."  
  
Rebecca looked at her cousin, and nodded. "Fine," she said. The group  
hurried up the stairs, and into the hallways of the castle. They passed the  
bodies of several of the Count's guards, dead or unconscious it was hard to  
tell. "Your handiwork?" Rebecca asked.  
  
"Indeed," Phileas said. "Keep moving, or we'll get caught in some more of  
my 'handiwork'."  
  
*****  
  
Back in the chamber, Jules rushed over to the second Machine, and pulled  
open the access panel. He thrust his hands inside, and looked closer at the  
mechanisms inside. "A-ha!" he cried. "Brilliant! I never thought to  
cross-rig the motor servo with the fusion pump. von Moenne, you do have  
some talent after all. Let's see, this link should fit into here, and...  
yes. Got it! Now, let me try this again."  
  
Jules reached over, and pressed the "On" button. Nothing happened.  
  
"Hmmm... Well, let's try this from a different approach. If we disconnect  
this piston control, I think we can hook up its energy pipe to the main  
energy coil, and thus boost the fusion pump. Yes, that should do it!"  
Jules tinkered about in the panel, the sweat dripping from his forehead as  
he worked to get the second Machine going before the first one exploded. He  
quickly shut the access panel, and jumped into the Machine's seat. He  
pulled the glass dome shut and sealed it, braced himself, and pressed the  
"On" button one more time. This time, the Machine thrummed to life. "Yes!"  
Jules cried in triumph. He manipulated the controls, and began to steer the  
Machine towards the opening at the far side of the chamber. The Machine  
seemed to putter along rather slowly. "Come on, come on," Jules urged the  
craft. "I wish there was a speed control on this thing," he muttered.  
"This is going way to slow for my tastes."  
  
With another shuddering boom, a second explosion ripped through the chamber.  
This time it was the first Machine that exploded. The shockwaves from the  
blast quickly caught up with Jules' Machine, and slammed into the little  
craft. Jules was thrown back in his seat as the resultant burst of speed  
pushed the small ship towards the exit faster than Jules was comfortable  
with. "I promise to be careful what I wish for in future!" he cried out as  
his craft plunged into the dark hole of the tunnel. Jules shut his eyes,  
and kept his hands steady on the controls, praying that the tunnel was a  
simple straight shot out into freedom.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity but was really only about five seconds,  
light burst in on Jules as his Machine slipped smoothly out of the tunnel  
and into the open sea. The Machine continued to rocket forward thanks to  
the shockwave, and no matter how many times Jules hit the "Off" button, the  
Machine kept going. Eventually the momentum from the blast did die down,  
and the Machine slowly drifted to a halt. The early morning sun shone down  
on Jules as his craft floated upon the surface of the sea.  
  
"Wow!" Jules smiled. "Now *that* was something else!" He reached forward  
to press the "On" button. "Time to head for shore," he said. The button  
clicked, the engine responding with a loud, worrying "clank". Jules winced.  
"Oh, no." He popped open the glass hatch, and breathed in the sea air.  
Jules twisted in his seat so he could reach the access panel, which he  
quickly opened. A great cloud of smoke burst forth from the open panel,  
causing Jules to cough violently. Once the smoke cleared, Jules could look  
into the panel, and he saw that he would never be able to get the Machine  
working again. Too many links and pipes had either exploded or melted, and  
were beyond repair. On top of that, a dead fish was caught in a small set  
of gears.  
  
Jules turned back around, and slumped down in his seat. He looked around at  
his surroundings. A vast expanse of sea, with the shore a very long  
distance away. "Now what?" he said glumly.  
  
*****  
  
Passepartout piloted the Aurora quickly away from von Moenne's castle. "I  
am thinking we need to look for Master Jules now, Master," he said to  
Phileas.  
  
"We'll get to that, Passepartout, but for the moment, just get us the hell  
away from that castle as fast as you can!" Phileas ordered.  
  
"Yes, Master," Passepartout acknowledged as he manipulated the controls of  
the airship. The craft sped away from the castle, in the direction of the  
nearby sea.  
  
"What was that you said earlier, Fogg," the Prince said, curious, "about  
your other bit of 'handiwork'?"  
  
Phileas smiled, and was about to respond, when from behind the Aurora an  
incredible explosion ripped through the early morning air. The Prince,  
Phileas and Rebecca rushed to the observation deck, and looked back in the  
direction of the castle. What had once been a majestic, proud stone  
construction was now no more than a shell of its previous existence. Debris  
and rubble was everywhere. Towers had toppled, walls had collapsed, and  
there were several fires buring in a number of locations throughout the  
remains of the building.  
  
"Oh, a few fires, a few explosive charges here and there," Phileas said  
breezily. "Nothing too fancy."  
  
The Prince nodded approvingly. "Ah. Excellent handiwork, Fogg."  
  
"Thank you, Your Highness."  
  
"Master!" they heard Passepartout call out anxiously. They hurried back  
into the main cabin. Passepartout pointed out the front window at the  
expanse of water they were now sailing over. "Look, in the water!"  
  
Phileas, Rebecca and the Prince rushed to look out the large main window.  
  
"Look, a flash of light!" Rebecca said. "I think it must be our Jules!"  
  
The Prince looked closer. "Good God, he's in one of those infernal  
Machines!" he said, surprise clearly evident in his voice.  
  
"Definitely our Jules, then," Phileas smiled.  
  
Rebecca and Phileas rushed back to the access platform. "Lower me down,  
Phileas," Rebecca said briskly as she stepped onto the platform. Phileas  
threw the lever, and Rebecca rode the platform down towards the surface of  
the sea. As she got closer to the surface, she called out to Jules. "Fancy  
meeting you here!"  
  
Jules laughed heartily. "You know, Rebecca, I'm always glad to see you."  
He carefully stood up on the Machine's seat as Rebecca got ever nearer to  
him.  
  
"Can I offer you a lift?" Rebecca chuckled.  
  
"Don't mind if I do, Rebecca," Jules smiled. He waited until the platform  
was just about level with the surface of the sea, then he nimbly jumped from  
the Machine onto the platform. Rebecca caught him and steadied him as he  
tried to keep his balance. She looked at him briefly, then hugged him  
close.  
  
"I'm glad you made it, Jules," Rebecca said quietly in his ear as the  
platform began to ascend.  
  
"So am I, Rebecca," Jules agreed.  
  
"I see you got the Machine working," Rebecca said.  
  
"Yes, it worked. von Moenne was close, just as I was close. But together  
our ideas were even closer. Then once I saw the actual mechanism inside, I  
knew how to get it to work. But now... now it's dead."  
  
Rebecca reached into a pouch on her outfit, and withdrew an explosive  
charge. She pressed the button, and threw the box down into the open hatch  
of the Machine. "Yes, it's dead. So is von Moenne. And his plans die with  
him."  
  
Jules and Rebecca rode the rest of the way back up in silence.  
  
The Aurora hung in the air for a few moments. Then, below it, the second  
Machine exploded, its debris scattering over the water, and the main body of  
the Machine sunk into the depths. After a few more moments, the Aurora  
drifted off, on its way to another mission.  
  
*****  
  
The debris from the exploded archway shifted slightly, as a hand struggled  
to the surface of the rockpile. The hand shoved aside several large pieces  
of rock and masonry. Eventually a second hand joined it, and then an angry  
body pushed its way out of the pile of rubble.  
  
von Moenne stood on unsteady feet as he clutched his throbbing head.  
Several cuts on his head and body still dripped with blood. von Moenne  
looked about him. He saw that he could not go back up the blocked off  
stairway. He also saw that one of his Machines was utterly destroyed. Of  
the second there was no sign. von Moenne walked calmly towards the edge of  
the stone, and dove smoothly into the water.  
  
He swam strongly and silently towards the exit tunnel, eventually reaching  
the fresh, open air, and hew swam out into the sunlight. He swam a little  
ways out to sea, then turned to look back towards land. Up on the craggy  
cliffside he  
could see the charred, smoking, crumbling ruins of his once-proud castle.  
von Moenne swam in place for a few moments, as he simply stared up at the  
ruins. Then, once more silent and determined, he swam back towards land.  
  
Instead of swimming over to a nearby beach where he could simply walk  
ashore, he swam towards the rocky cliffside which plunged straight into the  
water, and from which the tunnel to the Machine chamber had emerged. He did  
not swim back into the tunnel to the chamber, however, but instead, after  
taking a deep breath, dove under the surface. He swam towards a much larger  
opening that was completely submerged and therefore not visible from the  
surface of the  
water. von Moenne entered this larger underwater tunnel, and swam down its  
length. He eventually emerged into another underground chamber and sucked  
air into his lungs. After he calmed his breathing back down, he swam over  
to the edge of the stone dock,  
and heaved himself up out of the water.  
  
von Moenne, dripping with water, looked about the chamber. This underground  
catacomb was much larger than the one he had just left. It was about five  
hundred feet in width and length, with a small narrow stone walkway running  
along one wall. At one end of the stone walkway was an exit, with a  
stairway leading upwards. At the other end of the stone walkway was a  
control panel  
with switches, dials, and levers.  
  
von Moenne contemplated the stairway leading upwards. He walked towards it.  
From the base of the stairway he could see that the upper part of the  
stairway was completely blocked, filled with cracked and crumbled debris  
from the destruction of his castle. Turning away from the stairs, von  
Moenne walked over to the panel at the other end of the stone walkway. He  
looked quietly at the controls, then reached out to calmly pull a lever.  
  
With a great clanking, hissing, and rumbling noise, the water behind him  
began to churn. Something began to surface... a giant metal cylinder,  
vaguely in the same shape of the Underwater Transport Machines, but on an  
immensely larger scale. Instead of a glass dome on top, a small metal  
ladder fused to the main body of the cylinder led up to a normal-looking  
hatch with a wheel. The dark, dull grey of the giant Machine was slick with  
water from its time spent underneath the surface. Once the craft had  
emerged to a height of about three feet, it stopped, and the clanking and  
rumbling noise ceased. The chamber became quiet once more.  
  
von Moenne paused to look at the giant Machine. From one end of the craft  
to the other it was approximately two hundred feet in length, and about  
twenty-five feet in diameter. The nose of the ship tapered to a  
bullet-point, as had the smaller Machines. The tail end again featured a  
propeller-like mechanism.  
  
von Moenne calmly stripped off his damp, dripping clothes, and once he was  
naked, he calmly climbed the metal ladder up to the entry hatch of the giant  
Machine. Twisting the wheel, he lifted the hatch open, and climbed down,  
closing and locking the hatch behind him. He climbed down the ladder which  
was fitted to the inside of the hatch, and jumped down to the floor. He  
walked down a narrow, cramped hallway and went into a tiny room off to one  
side. A few moments later he emerged, clothed in a clean, neat,  
military-style uniform.  
  
Feeling somewhat better, von Moenne marched back down the hallway, and  
headed towards the rear of the Machine. He reached a closed door at the end  
of the hallway. Reaching out, he yanked open the door. von Moenne marched  
into the craft's engine room. He headed straight for a bank of pipes and  
controls. "Let me see... what was it? Oh yes... 'hook up its energy pipe  
to the main energy coil, and thus boost the fusion pump'. Thank you, Jules  
Verne, I think between  
the two of us we might just get the Nautilus functional.  
  
He paused, and looked up at the ceiling. "Count von Moenne may have died  
today. But the world will soon hear from... Captain Nemo!"  
  
Turning back to the workings of the Nautilus' engine, Captain Nemo set to  
work...  
  
  
...THE END...  
  
  
  
AUTHOR'S POST-SCRIPT:  
I know that this story doesn't fit in with comments Gavin Scott has made in  
interviews regarding possible Nemo encounters in SAJV, nor does it fit in  
with established Nemo lore from "20,000 Leagues" and elsewhere. It's simply  
an idea I had, which turned out to be quite fun to plot and write. I didn't  
even have to go back too much to retro-fix what I'd already written to make  
it work with how it eventually ended. In fact, Nemo wasn't even part of the  
original idea, he didn't show up until much later in the development. But  
once the idea popped into my head, ain't no way was it gonna leave, so in  
went Nemo. Of course, if Nemo does show up during SAJV's second season,  
this story will probably contradict the episode fifteen ways from Sunday (or  
whatever the phrase is). I simply hope you enjoy the tale. :-)  
--Kevin 


End file.
